A Series of WeeChesters
by Blondie-Boo
Summary: A series of one-shots about Sam and Dean when they're kids. Chapter 1 The boys are bored sitting in the motel room while John is out. Dean comes up with an idea to have some fun.


**A series of Wee!chesters**

Summary: A series of one-shots about Sam and Dean when they're kids. Chapter 1 The boys are bored sitting in the motel room while John is out. Dean comes up with an idea to have some fun.

Disclaimer-I didn't create them but every once in awhile Eric Kripke let's me take them out for a spin.

As always, I hope theres not too many errors (even though I spell check), remember to review (all comments are welcome) and finally I hope you enjoy it! Oh and if the boys seem a little out of character that's because all thier adventures are actually those of three little girls in Ohio (yep me and my sis's when we were little!)

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**_Chapter One- Staircase Sledding_**

Sammy knew that Dean was smart. He was probably the smartest person he knew... well except for Dad that is, but even this made Sam just a little skeptical. When Dean had pulled the old faded laundry basket from the closet, with an evil grin he had mostly been intrigued. For the better part of the day they had been vegging out in front of the tiny hotel television (even though it was fuzzy and only got three channels) waiting for their father to come home and Dean had made no signs of moving. Mostly Dean had been trying to drown out Sam's constant whining about how he was bored and that they should be doing something fun, by staring at the T.V. even though he wasn't really watching it. Truth was, he was just as bored as his little brother but he wouldn't ever admit that to him, and besides he had just a little bit better control then Sammy so when he was bored, at least he wasn't jumping off the walls being irritating. But then an idea had struck him and suddenly Dean jumped from his seat in the big orange recliner, that he had to wrestle Sammy for, and he had rushed to the closet and picked out the basket.

Curious, Sam had followed Dean around the apartment begging him to tell him what he was planning to do. Whenever Dean had an idea they were always fun, a little bit dangerous and they usually got yelled at for doing them, but that just added to the fun. And besides Daddy needed to yell at them every once in awhile, or so Dean said, otherwise he would get bored because all he got to do all day was grownup stuff.

"You'll find out soon enough." Dean assured him as he flicked off the T.V. and then the lamp beside their bed. But 'soon enough' just wasn't coming quick enough for Sam.

"Come on, Dean. I want to know too," he whined, puffing out his lower lip and giving him his best puppy dog eyes like he did for Dad when he wanted candy from the Gas Station. Dean only rolled his eyes and shot him a glare while he grabbed their jackets from the bedpost.

"Gosh...just give me a minute, okay? Just be glad we're getting out of this room." Dean slipped his arms through his red jacket then tossed, the smaller blue one to Sam. "Put your coat on. I've just got to grab the room keys and then we can go." As he zipped up his coat Sam grumbled about how Dean was just a big old grouch but he wouldn't say that to Dean or he might get left behind in the room; Dean threatened to do it tons of times before, but he hadn't actually done it...yet. So when Dean was turned around getting the keys from the table in the corner and then picking up the laundry basket from the floor Sammy stuck his tongue out at him, and he felt a little better. Finally, Dean led the way out of their Motel room and they were on their way.

"It's not even cold out...why do I have to wear this stupid jacket anyways?" Dean hadn't even locked the door before Sam asked the question.

Dean could only sigh and roll his eyes. Today was definitely one of those days that seemed like it was going to drag on forever. "Because Dad says so and I'm not getting yelled at because I didn't make you put yours on. Besides, I have to wear mine too."

"Oh." After that Sam was pretty quiet as they walked past all the 1st floor rooms. Do you think Dad is gonna be mad at us?"

"Hand." Dean commanded, the minute his sneakers touched the black top of the parking lot. He held out his free hand for his brother who was quick to oblige. "Sammy, he _really_ is just out buying groceries," he said as they crossed the parking lot, "He's not on a hunt or anything...we _really_ are just passing through this time. Besides its 12 o'clock; it's daylight."

"It's not that," Sam mumbled as he shuffled his sneakers, "I don't know... this is just starting...you know...um, to look like one of those things he's gonna get mad about...just a little bit..."

"Don't worry about it, Sammy! Besides we're here now!"

They were only about a hundred feet down from their own motel room, standing in front of the very last room at the very end of the building.

"Where's here?" Sam asked, eyeing the door of room 12A, desperately searching for something interesting about the pale green door in front of them; maybe he was missing something. He looked a little closer, squinting his eyes as he inspected the door.

"Not that, Stupid!" Dean said rolling his eyes. He grabbed Sammy by the arm and pulled him closer until he was standing directly in front of it.

Sam was rather disappointed and made sure that he sounded like he was. "Is this it?"

"Yep. This is it" Dean answered.

"The stairs?"

"Yep."

Sammy looked at them again. He knew the metal flight of stairs led to the other ten-or-so rooms on the second floor of the motel. They were fairly sturdy, a fact Sam had learned the day before, when he ran up and down them a few times while Dean counted to see how long it took him (22 and 1/2 Mississippi's). But he had to be careful on them, because they weren't like the stairs you find in houses; they had big empty spaces of air in between each step and if he wasn't paying attention he might fall through and it seemed like a real far drop to the concrete below. So, every time (except for when Dean was timing him) he went up and down these stairs he watched his feet very carefully to make sure he was stepping on metal and not air. And the other thing about the stairs' they were dirty, really really dirty. Every time they held on to the pipe-railing tight, (when he ran up and down them really fast or when Dean grabbed on to them to jump the last two steps) little bits of rust flaked off and they were left with orangey brown streaks on the palms of their hands. And when he had fallen going up them once, they left black marks on the knees of his jeans (Daddy wasn't very happy about that).

"Come on," Dean said as he pushed his younger brother up the stairs. When he finally got Sam to the top he placed the laundry basket right on the edge of the stairs then sat down inside of it. He looked up at Sam expectantly. "Well…."

"Dean I really don't think this is such a great idea…." Sam said.

"Fine. If you don't want to go, I'll just go without you." Dean grabbed on to the railing on either side of him. Mimicking the snowboarders he had watched on the T.V. he used the railing to pull himself forward then push himself back, forward then back, forward then back. And just when Sam thought he was going to go down; he stopped. "You know Sammy, I think I'm gonna call it stair-sledding, ya know since I invented it and everything. Stair-sledding," Dean repeated the word like he was tasting it, testing it out like he would with a new pair of shoes. "Yeah... that's a good name don't you think?"

"Stair-sledding?" Sam frowned and then eyed the staircase.

"What you don't like the name?" Dean asked with a chuckle. "Well, no more wasting time. I'm gonna go!" He resumed the back and forth motion.

"Wait! I'm coming too!" Sam exclaimed.

Dean smiled. "That's what I thought" He shifted a little and then put his legs straight out in front of him. "You'll just have to sit on top of me Sammy."

Sammy did as he was instructed, stepping into the basket and sitting on Dean's lap and putting his legs out just like his brother. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's go."

Dean grabbed on to the railing again and began the back and forth motion. Forward then back, forward then back, one more time; forward then back and then forward. The front half of the basket was hanging over the edge but it wasn't quite far enough to put them into motion. Dean held the railing even tighter and gave the final pull. The front half of the basket came down so painfully slow, Dean watched the stairs appear before them. He imagined this was what being at the very top of a roller coaster hill felt like; just about to come down. With that thought he grabbed Sammy around the middle and held on to him, just waiting for that second they were going to shoot down the other side of the hill, or in this instance the staircase. Finally, he felt the bottom of the basket touch down on the steps of the staircase and--they went nowhere.

"Dean I don't get it. Maybe we're doing it wrong." Sam said very softly.

"We can't be doing it wrong Sammy I invented it!"

"Well, I don't think we can be doing it right"

"Shuddup Sam!" Dean huffed as he looked around them. They hadn't even moved passed the second step on the set of stairs. The front end of the laundry basket hadn't come down right on the edge of the next step, which would have sent them flying down the stairs, instead it had landed about an inch in front of it and consequently they were perfectly perched between the two steps; basically...they were stuck.

Dean grumbled under his breath and cursed the stairs. Maybe if he gave it one more push, he thought, it would be enough to send them on their way. Dean shifted his weight and then twisted his body to get a better grasp of the metal bar, but just as he went to grab for the railing the world went flying out from under him.

**"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"**

(Apparently, just Dean's wiggling had provided enough movement to send the boys flying down the steps.)

Both boys were screaming to high heaven, as they went shooting down the staircase. Dean had grabbed onto Sammy and was holding on to him for dear life. He was squeezing so tight his knuckles had turned white and it was preventing Sam from breathing. But that didn't matter much; Sam had taken a deep breath just as they started towards the bottom and he had left it back at the top...along with his stomach. And unfortunately for Sam, because he was up front, he got to watch the concrete come flying towards them, which nearly made his eyes bulge out of their sockets. Dean, on the other hand, was thanking God, that Sam's big fat head that was usually blocking the T.V. was blocking most of his view at the moment.

And of course in true Winchester style nothing could be easy. They didn't come gliding down the staircase fast and smoothly like the pros that the inventors of stair-sledding should be. Instead the ride was bumpy and sporadic. Every once in a while they would get caught on another step, and there would be just enough time for them to think that they had stopped and the ride was over but then they would go flying off again. Each step was awful and sent the basket flying in odd directions, halfway through their ride the basket turned at a sideways angle and the last few steps they rode nearly horizontal. The boys came down in a whirl of arms, and legs and screaming; a lot of screaming.

Now there was one part of this adventure Dean hadn't really thought out completely, well the whole thing wasn't very well planned but this part probably should have been. And Dean realized this about a quarter of the way down. They were headed straight for a nice thick slab of sidewalk concrete. Dean closed his eyes, tightened his grip on Sammy and prepared for impact.

And then it happened; the basket finally hit the bottom and was instantly stopped, but the Winchester boys did not. They came toppling out of the basket on to the concrete, Sammy on top of Dean; a mix of legs and arms and bruises.

They both just sat there for a few seconds, catching their breaths and waiting for their hearts to stop beating out of their chests. All in all neither one was too worse for wear. Dean's hands were completely orange, and he had skinned his left knee on the landing. It didn't hurt too bad, mostly he was afraid to look and see if there was a hole in the knee of his jeans; Dad would kill him if there was. Sammy was just a little better off; he had gotten away with just a few bruises.

"Dean?" Sam asked softly turning to glance at his brother.

"Yeah?" Dean questioned in the same soft tone his brother had used.

"That was fun. We should do it again."

Dean broke into a smile and chuckled a little to himself. "Sammy?"

"Yeah Dean?"

"Get off of me." Dean answered as he pushed his brother over and started to sit up. "Come on. Dad's gonna be home soon."

And then the most horrific noise he had ever heard made its way to Dean's ear and it had a way of making Dean wish he would have died in the stair-sledding ride.

"Boys."

Dean grimaced and meekly turned to face that all too familiar voice. And there stood his father; John Winchester, holding a big brown paper grocery bag and wearing his angry face. "Yes, sir?" Dean answered rather sheepishly.

"Boys, I think we're going to have to have a talk."

"Yes, sir." The boys answered together.

Sam knew that in Daddy speak 'having a talk' meant they were going to get yelled at and he felt bad cus' he knew Dean would get the worst of it.

John sighed. "Come on, let's get inside and put these groceries away and then we can talk about this."

Dean mumbled a 'yes sir' as he stood up. He helped Sammy up off the ground and brushed some of the dirt and dust off his jacket and then did the same to himself. They started the slow walk back to the motel room; side-by-side, Dean taking a hold of Sam's hand as they crossed the parking lot.

After a quick glance at their first steps John knew neither of his boys were hurt, which was a relief. At least there were no boo-boo's to patch up. He shook his head with a sigh as he bent down to pick up the laundry basket with his free hand. He had to hold back a chuckle, when he realized it had was bent at an odd angle. And slowly, he followed his sons back to their room. He walked just a few feet behind them, watching and listening to them. He smiled as they talked in hushed voices to each other loud enough that he could hear.

"Dean that was really fun...well, after it stopped being scary. I wish we could do it again." Sam whispered not so softly to his brother.

"I told you...stair-sledding is gonna be the next big thing." For a brief second Dean glanced back at John but turned back around real quick when he met his father's gaze. He leaned down and "whispered" into his little brothers ear, "And besides tonight it's supposed rain, I bet tomorrow morning those stairs are gonna be covered in water. You thought today was...just wait, tomorrow will be even better." Dean smiled and Sammy smiled back at him.

John stopped for a second at the mention of tomorrows' "adventure". He couldn't help but grin. His boys were always making mischief and finding ways to get into trouble; he couldn't imagine them all grown up. They definitely were a pair of hell-raisers.

The End.

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hope you liked it thanks and thanks for reading

please review!

i think chapter two is going to be about a game me and my siblings used to play in the car... until next time

BlondieBoo


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